


Warmth Seeker

by AriaJarvis



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-09 12:59:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14716514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriaJarvis/pseuds/AriaJarvis
Summary: Zita never really cared about what Dib said. So, when he warned her to stay away from Zim, it was just too tempting to want to get closer. Nobody ever said spite was a good reason to do anything, but what's the harm in making a friend?





	1. I Can't See

**Author's Note:**

> True desperation is when you have to write the fic yourself 'cause you couldn't find anything else.

Zita never really cared about what Dib said. Why should she? The first thing he ever said to her was absolutely _nuts_.

* * *

Zita was six when she met Dib. She just moved into town two weeks ago, so she had no friends, and since she always took after her pasty mother, particularly in the sensitive skin department, she didn't often go out to play during the day. As far as Zita was concerned, the cool summer nights were the best time to play, even if that was when her dad worked, even if her mother didn't go outside, even if she had to play all alone, with just a purple ball to play with.

Sometimes, though, she'd notice an unnatural shake from the bushes, a little scythe poking out. Once she threw her ball at it, which was kind of stupid, but the "NYAH-HAHH!" of shock and pain told her that she wasn't alone after all.

One night, the scythe popped out of the bushes, revealing a bespectacled little boy underneath it. Underneath the scythe, not the bushes. The boy pointed at Zita.

"I _know_ what you _are!_ "

Zita tilted her head, confused. The bespectacled bush boy was expecting a reply, so several minutes passed before either of them said anything. Finally, she dropped her ball, pinched the hem of her striped green dress, and curtsied.

The bush-scythe boy, confused, straightened his back and lowered his hand, but soon he shook his head and resumed pointing. Zita, believing she had somehow done _something_ wrong, started crying, causing the boy great distress.

"Shh! No, don't cry! I didn't want to make you cry!"

Zita sniveled, and tilted her head once more. The boy kept talking.

"Um... are you a nosferatu? You _are_ , right?"

* * *

Somehow, despite their horrible first meeting, Zita and Dib became friends. It certainly helped that it was summer; with no skool, Zita couldn't really find any other kids to spend time with. It also helped that Dib was often up at night anyway, searching for ghosts and cryptids and... _whatever_ a Fiskerton Phantom was supposed to be.

It did _not_ help that Dib causing Zita distress wasn't the _only_ time he'd caused distress. It really sucked to let go of a friendship that had them lasted several years, but... well, Dib chased a kid up a tower claiming he was Big Foot. Involving a random kid in your Big Foot chasing is the _Point of No Return_.

So, when Dib warned her to stay away from Zim, it was just too tempting to want to get closer. As far as she knew, Zim hadn't done anything to her, really-- well, there was that one time he stole everybody's organs, who knows _why_ , but he gave them back, at least, so he definitely wasn't trying to kill them. Other than that, Zim seemed pretty harmless. _Weird_ , but harmless.

Nobody ever said spite was a good reason to do _anything_ , at least, as far as Zita knew, but what's the harm in making a friend?

The only issue, really, was she didn't have a shadow of a clue of how she was supposed to approach him. Zim seemed to go between not really caring about what was going on around him to utter, irrational terror at the drop of a hat. She imagined saying "hi" to him and triggering a panic attack. That was not and would never be a good way to make a friend.

All Zita really did was speak out in Zim's defense every now and then. It didn't happen a lot. Well, actually, maybe it happened a lot; Dib was a jerk to him plenty, but the other skool kids either saw Zim as a walking punchline or a second Dib waiting to happen. The thought was horrifying, sure, but Dib had a long history of crazy. Zim's case could easily be one of anxiety.

Whatever it was, Zim seemed to appreciate her help. At the very least, when he was upset, he'd yell at anyone but her. It was a warm, almost sweet kind of indifference, and Zita learned to appreciate it very much.

Zita didn't even need to think of an opener. _He_ approached _her_.

* * *

It was after her left eye had been blinded by flying mashed potatoes. Her right had already had a dealing of potatoes, so the second helping left her temporarily blind. She stumbled about the cafeteria, falling to her hands and knees as she looked for-- well, tried to _find_ the exit. Then, she felt a three-fingered hand grab her arm.

"Hey, what happened to your face?"

Zim pulled her to her feet, toward him to get a good look at her face. He gagged at the sight of her eyes, so Zita forced a smile and shrugged.

"See, uh... Gaz threw mashed potato at my eye," she said.

Zim growled and clutched her arm tighter. "Is your eye still functional?"

Zita shrugged. "I can't see, if that's what you mean."

"Does this require medical attention?"

Zita nodded. "Yeah, I was just trying to get to the-- WHOA!"

Zim started pulling Zita in the opposite direction, through the cafeteria, through the exit leading into the hall, and to door of the skool nurse's office. He opened the door and pushed her in, cringing as she tripped and crashed to the ground, taking care not to actually enter himself, and promptly left.

The nurse saw to Zita's eye and called Zita's father to pick her up.

* * *

Zita spent the next day at home; seeing as she was blind, it'd be a dumb idea to try and go to skool anyway, though she could only shudder and think of what the absence would do to her grade. She just laid in bed at home, listening to audio books, when her phone rang.

Of course, it was charging in an outlet on the other side of the room, so Zita had to stop the audio book, stumble out of bed, and pat her desk and dresser as she made her way to the outlet. She picked up her phone and swiped, praying for a moment that she remembered correctly and "accept call" was on the right side of the screen. She held the phone to her ear.

"Hello? Who is this?" Zita asked.

" _Why_ weren't you at _skool_ today?!" Zim's shrill cry seemed to Zita like an accusation.

"Well, _you_ sound upset." Zita said.

" _Of course_ I'm upset! You're _always_ at skool! Why weren't you there _today?_ Oh, you should have heard what _Dib--!_ "

"You remember the potatoes, right?"

There was a long, painfully-drawn-out silence on the other end of the line. By the time he finally spoke, Zim's voice had quieted immensely-- not that that said much.

"You're still hurt?"

"Yes? This is gonna take a while to heal. Why? What did Dib do?"

"Oh... you know. Same old."

"You sound uncomfortable."

The long, low tone told Zita that Zim had hung up.


	2. Where Have You Been?

" _Fool!_ My fellow hideous, inferior human pig smellies are _insulted_ by this _constant slander!_ "

Loud as Zim was, Zita certainly felt he wasn't _wrong._ Across the room, Pig Boy bounced in his chair, delighted in his belief that Zim had actually acknowledged him as a person. Unfortunately for Pig Boy, Zita, Dib, and perhaps everyone in the classroom, Dib _kept talking._

"Would a human call their own kind _pig smelly?_ Huh? Huh? _Huh?_ We're not pigs!"

Zita shuddered. Tears welled up in Pig Boy's eyes. Dejected to be denied of his humanity almost as soon as it had been reaffirmed, Pig Boy hopped out of his seat and tottered over to Zita. She hugged Pig Boy, and he sobbed.

" _Hey!_ " Zita shouted, turning toward Dib, "You watch what you say around Pig Boy!"

Pig Boy squealed in emotional pain and fled to the window, jumping out and flying away.

"You see, Dib?" Zim said, "I'm as normal as any human, and _nothing_ you can say can make me--"

A giant, man-like figured crashed through the roof, grabbed Zim, and blasted off. Mere moments later, Zim face planted back into the ground, and the figure landed in the classroom again.

"Sorry about that," said the figure, picking up Zim, "now, _back into outer space!_ "

The figure blasted off with Zim, and Dib rushed to the front of the classroom and pointed skyward.

"Okay, _that!_ Did anyone see Zim get snatched up into space by a giant alien monster?"

The entire classroom simply looked forward in shock, too shocked to say anything, even as a bird turd landed on Dib's shoulder with a light _ker-plunk_. Zita in particular was reeling; first, poor Pig Boy flew back into the Great Beyond from Whence He Came, never to be seen again, and now poor Zim had been violently kidnapped by whoever that was, all in the span of one, maybe two minutes. She felt slightly sick.

"Hey..." Poonchy said, overcoming his shock, "Dib's got a _bird doodie_ on his _jacket!_ "

The relief from the tension-breaking bird dropping was like the sound of a small bag of Doritos hitting the bottom of a vending machine after a long day of hard work with no food. The entire class burst into laughter. Dib looked about in disbelief and hung his head, shedding a single tear.

After her laughing fit, Zita took a deep breath and sighed. She took a few more deep breathes in hopes of stabilizing her mood, but once she opened her eyes and noticed Dib had cried, her mood plummeted anyway. He ran out of the room, and she followed him out into the hall.

"Dib!" Zita cried, "Dib, wait!"

Dib stopped and looked back at her. "You shouldn't have chased after me. Your dumb reputation is gonna be ruined."

Zita stepped back. "My... my reputation?"

Dib turned toward her. "Yeah, your reputation. Isn't that why you ditched me?"

Zita's eye twitched and she clenched her fists, brows furrowing. "My _reputation?_ Are you kidding me? I hang out with a guy who only changes his underwear twice a month and half the skool knows I have a crush on an anxious green kid who spends half of his time screaming. My reputation is _already_ the pits!"

"Anxious gree--" Dib took a moment to process what Zita had just said. "Oh, _God no!_ Don't tell me you're talking about--"

"And what if I am? Is that any of your business?"

"Uh, _yes?_ He's a horrible organ-stealing mind-controlling world-conquering conquerer from the stars!"

" _Claiming_ he's a space alien doesn't make it your _business!_ "

"What could you possibly see in him?! He's awful!"

"No, he's not! He's... a little weird, yeah, but..."

Zita looked down, not quite sure what she saw in Zim, yet not quite able to rationalize away her feelings. There was a very long, very awkward silence between the two as Zita kicked the ground and Dib gagged in horror and disgust. Finally, Dib shook his head and spoke.

"Well! It's nice to know you followed me out here just to yell at me about your love for green dookie man."

Zita stepped forward. "Dib, no. I'm here to apologize for laughing. I was stressed, and the bird dookie was off-putting in a silly way, but--"

"Just forget it. Every day is going to be the same, anyway. I'll point out every piece of evidence that Zim's an alien, and you'll ignore it and call me crazy."

Zita's tone softened. "Um... aren't you at least concerned?"

"About what?"

"Zim! He was just _kidnapped!_ He could be _dead--_ "

"He'll be fine. Don't worry."

* * *

Zita scurried through the hallways to her locker. She hadn't slept for half the night, and was currently relying on the rush of about 15 cups of Freaky Cathy Caffeine Trip Instant-Coffee to keep from running late. She pulled the books that she needed out of her bag and shoved the books into her locker, shutting it and letting out a tired sigh. Realizing her mistake, she struggled to get her locker open again.

"Wow," Dib said, approaching, "you look tired. _Really_ tired."

"Well, what do you expect?" Zita said, finally prying open her locker, "I couldn't _sleep!_ Zim's been gone for, what, a week?!"

"Zita, it's only been three days."

Zita dropped her bag and blinked. She shook her head and put her bag into her locker, avoiding Dib's gaze.

"Has it? It feels like it was longer..."

Dib rolled his eyes. "I don't even wanna _ask_ why..."

Zita took her books out of her locker. "I'm worried, alright? All we saw was that guy... breaking into the classroom and kidnapping Zim. And Zim's been missing since. I mean... sometimes he goes AWOL, but he's never been gone for three days straight."

Dib scratched his chin. "Huh. Now that you mention it, that is weird. Usually he'd have some incredibly noticeable plot to wipe out mankind in action by now."

Zita scowled and hugged her books.

"Look," Dib said, "If it'll make you happy, I can go to his house and see if he's okay. Okay?"

Zita looked at the ground.

"What's the matter?" Dib said, "Don't you want to know?"

"I don't know." Zita said, "what if he's not okay?"

"Well... then, uh... _huh._ I never really thought Zim would even be worth sparing--"

" _Dib!_ "

"But if it makes you happy, if he's in any sort of trouble, I'll go and save him. Okay?"

Zita wasn't quite satisfied with this response, but this time, the long and awkward silence was a short and awkward silence, as Zita felt need to hurry to class.

"Hey, Zita, wait up!"

For the first time in a long while, they walked to class together. Unlike the years before, however, their conversation on the way was less than pleasant.

"Why would you _ever_ do anything nice for Zim?" Zita said, "You clearly hate his guts."

"I wouldn't be doing it for Zim, I'd be doing it for you."

"Why would you do anything for me? I ditched you, remember?"

"Well, yeah, you kinda did, but--"

Zita hurried forward and arrived at the door to their classroom.

"Zita, wait!"

"Look, it was nice talking to you again. But I just... I'd rather be left alone right now. Okay?"

Dib frowned. "Okay. It was nice talking to you, too, Zita.

* * *

For perhaps the hundredth time over the last three days, Zita dialed Zim's number and waited through the painfully droning tone before what Zita was certain would be Zim's answering machine, a strangely odd mix of gurgling and " _No, GIR! No...!_ "

Instead, she heard Zim say "Hello?"

"Zim?! You're okay!"

"Huh?" Zim said, having forgotten what transpired earlier that day, " _Oh!_ Oh, yes, I'm perfectly fine! There is nothing to be worried about."

Zita sighed and smiled. "What happened? Where have you been?"

"Huh? Oh! I was, uh, visiting relatives!"

Zita blinked, not quite believing the lie. "...relatives? You mean... that guy that crashed through the ceiling and grabbed you and flew off into space with you? That guy was a relative?"

Having just realized the stupidity of his excuse, Zim coughed. "Uh... yes."

Zita shrugged. "Well, as long as you're safe, I'm happy. How was the visit?"

" _Painful_ ," Zim said, his tone low and bitter, "I'm _never going back_."

Zita paused, having not quite expected the response. She gulped and spoke.

"Oh... alright then. I'll... see you later?"

Zim nodded, taking a moment to process that Zita had no way of knowing this, and facepalmed.

"Uh... yeah. See you later."

Zita smiled. "Take care, Zim."

"You too."


	3. Something For You

The joy and freshness that would often comes with New Years Eve was overshadowed by the darkness and wallowing sorrow surrounding the death of Santa Claus. He was many things to humanity; a sacred legend, a beacon of hope, a secretive mascot of rampant consumerism.

Of course, Santa was a fictional character that was halfway based on a historical figure that was already long dead and halfway based on a Viking deity that had yet to kick the bucket, but the people of Earth had long forgotten about that. Zita herself never knew.

Zita was sitting on one of the couches in her living room, flipping through an old photo album. Beside her lay Hercules, a gigantic dark-grey dog with red eyes and a spiked color, who Zita had yet to realize was hostile to everyone but her and her father (as far as she knew, he hated only Dib, which she could not blame him for). Hercules was fast asleep; Zita herself should have gone to bed an hour ago, and had already brushed her teeth and put on her pajamas. Still, there she was, flipping through an old family photo album.

It was unfortunate that she picked this night to wait for her father to get home before going to bed, as he was running late. Still, she didn't often get to see him; he worked from 2:00PM to 10:00PM, often being saddled with extra shifts that no one else at the company wanted, and ended up sleeping in long after Zita had to leave for skool. She was lucky if they happened to pass by each other as she came home from skool and he went off to work.

The potatoes were almost a blessing in disguise, letting her stay home with her father for once, even if catching up on half a week of skoolwork was a war in and of itself. As much as Zita loved the comfort of her home, the whole place felt quiet and lonely; from the coat rack by the door, to the rug, to the stairs, to the couches and windows, to the urn sitting on a little table by the coat rack by the door.

Some said that Santa could give a miserable child anything she wanted. Zita wondered if that was true.

The lock on the front door clicked and the knob turned. Hercules jolted awake and looked at the door, and Zita closed the album and followed his gaze. The door opened, and there was her father, Douglas Calida.

"Heya, Zee!" he said, "what are you doing up so late?"

"Oh!" Zita said, setting the album on the coffee table, "I just didn't realize how late it was. That's all."

Hercules hopped off the couch, squeezed past the coffee table, and trotted up to Doug. He sat down and wagged his stubby little tail, his doggy smell permeating throughout the room. Doug kneeled before Hercules and scratched his ears.

"Heya, Herc! Did you take care of Zee while I was away? Did you? Oh, yes you did!"

Zita smiled. She stood up and straightened out her dress. She walked over to Doug and hugged him.

"It was nice to be able to see you, Dad."

Doug smiled and patted her back. "Good to see you too, kiddo. Wish I could see you more often. Must be lonely around here..."

Zita looked at the urn on the table by the door. "It... It's fine. Don't worry about me."

Zita kissed her father goodnight and climbed the stairs, passed through the second floor hallway, entered her room and went to bed.

Some said that Santa could give a miserable child anything she wanted. Zita wondered if he could have given her her mother back.

* * *

There's something about crushing loneliness that's incredibly, exceedingly _boring_.

There was not a single channel on the TV, not a website on the internet, not a game on her Floppy Top laptop computer, with all its floppiness, that could rid Zita of this boredom. She simply sat on the couch, upside down, determined to let the blood rush to her head.

While exceedingly unpleasant, this did nothing to solve the boredom, so Zita rolled off the couch and faceplanted into the rug. There was nothing to do; The Letter M was busy tutoring Carl, so she couldn't really hang out with either of them. The house was cleaned, garden tended, and her homework done. January gave way to February, but it was still too cold to go swimming, and she'd played with Hercules so much that he got tired and had to take a nap.

Zita looked up at the clock. She'd only gotten home from skool less than an hour ago. She groaned and laid her face on the floor once more. With no one to talk to, nothing to do, and nothing to look forward to, the boredom was an hour or two away from manifesting in physical form and destroying the world, or at least half the state. All she wanted to do was go back to skool and see Zim again. She was never bored when Zim was around. She wasn't lonely, either.

The clock struck three, and Zita stirred. She sat up and hugged her legs, resting her chin on her knees. Her stomach growled, so Zita got up and went to the kitchen for a snack.

Unfortunately, the fridge held nothing but condiments and two gigantic sausages waiting to be prepared for Valentine's day tomorrow. Zita couldn't eat the sausages, and the condiments alone didn't seem very appetizing to her, so she crossed the room and checked the cupboards for food. There were a couple of granola bars and half a bag of smoking pellets. Since the pellets couldn't be eaten without great discomfort, Zita grabbed the granola bars, shut the drawer, and sat at the table.

As she munched on the granola bars, Zita briefly considered inviting Dib over. She imagined telling him that she thought she saw a demon hiding in the pool, maybe watching a couple of episodes of _Mysterious Mysteries_ , but ultimately decided that lying would be a bad idea, and letting him know that she still watched _Mysterious Mysteries_ would be even worse.

Zita balled up the granola wrappers and tossed them into the trash. Once again, she was alone with her thoughts. Lying and Mysterious Mysteries started seeming like a good idea when Zita remembered her Valentine's day meats. Preparing them would be as boring as any chore, certainly, given that she needed twenty servings, and even if she did want to do something more interesting, she didn't have the ingredients.

Apart from the smoking pellets, but there weren't nearly enough for two huge sausages. Smoked meat was certainly nicer than grilled, Zita thought, but it wouldn't be fair to give a one or two kids smoked sausage while everyone else had to deal with grilled. There was no _reason_ to give one kid smoked sausage, unless, Zita realized, that one kid was special.

Zita hopped out of her chair and opened the dining hutch. She picked out a large bowl, carried it to the sink, and filled the bowl with water. At the drawer, she took the bag of pellets and emptied half of what remained into the bowl of water. The oven she set to preheat, and she took the sausages out of the fridge and laid them on the cutting board, where she chopped them up. One serving, the meats she was preparing for Zim, she put back into the fridge; the rest she grilled on the stove top and brushed with BBQ sauce.

She put the grilled meats into a tupperware container, put the container into the fridge, and carefully pulled out Zim's meats, which she set on the counter. Zita strained the soaked pellets and emptied them into a pan, which went into the oven along with the foil-topped meats. As she waited for them to cook, she day-dreamt of Zim's reaction to getting such nice meat for Valentine's day.

* * *

During the bus ride to skool, Zita set the cooler containing her Valentine's day meats in her lap, panicking every time it even shifted slightly. She wanted, more than anything, to sit beside Zim, but she was concerned she'd let something slip about the smoked meats. So, she just sat behind Carl and The Letter M, like she always did.

"Couldn't you put that in a jar or something?" The Letter M asked, holding his nose.

"Beef is just more flavorful when you carry it in your bare hands." Carl said, holding up his meat slabs.

Zita scrunched up her nose. "How long has that been out...?"

Carl shrugged. "Define 'out'."

Zita and The Letter M exchanged glances and didn't speak for the rest of the bus ride. They couldn't, the stench was overwhelming.

When they arrived at skool, Zita hurried to her locker. She pulled her books out of her bag and shoved it into her locker. She slammed the locker door shut, piled her books on top of the cooler, and carried the cooler to her classroom, where she took her seat and set the cooler on top of her desk. Unable to see the front, Zita put her books on her lap.

One by one, students filed into the classroom and finally Zim entered. Zita sat up straight and smiled, but he took no notice and seated himself in front of her.

"Psst! Zim!" Zita said, "I've got something for you!"

Zim turned around, and Zita opened the cooler. She took the little plate of smoked sausage out and handed it to Zim. "Happy Valentine's day, Zim!"

He screamed.

"That's _disgusting!_ " Zim said, " _Get it away from me!_ "

Zim knocked the plate out of Zita's hands and it shattered on the ground. He turned back to the front of the classroom, shuddering.

As Ms. Bitters received the annual phone call from the skool's principal, hissing at growling at the beaver-petting mastermind of the staff, Zita just looked at her cooler, too upset to pay attention. At some point, the other children got up and started passing out their meat slabs, so Zita followed suit, carrying her cooler around the classroom and leaving a little plate of grilled sausage on each student's desk. Apart from Zim's, of course. When she was done, she sat back down and glanced at the shattered plate of smoked sausage.

" _Look!_ Everyone, look at what Zim's doing!"

Zim had been scanning his hand for lingering bacteria, but Zita completely missed it; by the time she heeded Dib's request and looked up, Zim had turned toward her and shrugged.

"What was Zim doing?" Zita asked, tone flat.

"He had a weird alien device on his head! Come on, you _have_ to have seen it!"

Zita shrugged. "That's neat, I guess."

Zim's face twisted in horror, as he'd been expecting Zita to brush off everything Dib said and call him crazy. Unfortunately for Zim, he mistook Zita's sorrowful indifference for belief in Dib's claim and, figuring the smoked meat had something to do with it, plucked it off the floor and stuffed it in his mouth. He tried to swallow it, but coughed and gagged and, as soon as it had actually gone into his throat, threw up on his desk.

Naturally, this didn't help Zita's mood at all. Tears flooded her eyes, and thinking that Zim just really hated her cooking, she stood and ran out of the room.

"Zita, wait!" Dib shouted, and he ran after her, or tried to.

Ms. Bitters blocked his path. "Where do you think you're going?"

"After Zita!"

"Not without a hall pass, you don't."

"But... Zita didn't have a hall pass."

Ms. Bitters growled and pointed to the auxiliary hall pass. Dib squinted at it, and pointed at his neck.

"What happened to the other hall pass?"

"We lost it."

Dib sighed, and dragged the hall pass through the door. Finding Zita wasn't difficult, as she was crying quite loudly. The difficulty was dragging the hall pass through the halls and shouting through the door of the girls' bathroom.

"Hey, Zita! Uh... Don't be upset! Zim's just a jerk!"

Zita only wailed louder.

"Damn. Uh... It's okay! There are a lot of aliens in the universe! You deserve way better than Zim!"

The wailing did not cease.

"Come on! All the aliens in the universe and you had to pick the one that wants to conquer Earth?"

This time, the wailing did cease. However, the stomping noises that approached the door, and the gentle twitch of Zita's eye, told Dib that he did not, in fact, successfully cheer Zita up. In fact, he bungled it.

"I'm going home." Zita said, "Tell Ms. Bitters I got sick from Carl's smelly meat slabs."

Zita walked past Dib. Dib sighed and started dragging the hall pass back to the classroom.

* * *

Tak gave Zim special Valentine's day meats, and she gets to be Zim's girlfriend, if only for a week. Zita does the same thing next year, and she gets screamed at.

Of course, Zita didn't know the whole story behind that little incident, but it still hurt. Zita spent the rest of Valentine's day at home, and when she returned to skool the next day, she avoided Zim's gaze, no matter how much he waved or snapped his fingers in front of her face. She wouldn't even answer her phone, although it rang incessantly. A week of moping passed.

At 2:00PM, as skool let out, Dib stopped Zim in the hall.

"What do _you_ want, _Dib?_ "

Dib rubbed his forehead and sighed. "Look, Zim, the last thing I wanna do is help you blend in better, but... just go tell Zita you're a vegetarian and that you're sorry about the meat. She'll forgive you."

Zim growled. "This is a _trap_ , isn't it?! You mean for me to anger her _further_ , don't you?! _Don't you?!_ "

"Uh, no?" Dib shrugged "She's not angry, she's sad that you rejected her sausage. She thinks you're rejecting her. Or her cooking, I guess... The point is, if you tell her that you're a vegetarian, she'll know it was the meat itself that was a problem and she'll feel better."

Zim took a step back, scrutinizing Dib's enormous head, and rubbed his chin.

"Well, I suppose the Zita is useful, and it can hardly get much worse from here..."

Dib raised an eyebrow.

"Fine!" Zim said, "But if she gets upset again, you're gonna pay, _Dib!_ You! Will! _Pay!_ "

"Just go apologize, you jerk."

"I'm going to need to find some way to contact her. She won't talk to me in class and she's not answering her phone."

"Can't you just... go over to her house?"

"Huh?"

"Her house? Can't you just go over there and... knock on the front door?"

For a long while, there was silence between the two, a silence that was ultimately broken by none other than Zim.

"Yes."

So it came to pass that, at four o'clock that very afternoon, as Zita looked through her family album for perhaps the hundredth time, Zim arrived on her front door step. Unfortunately for him, Hercules was snoozing on the porch. Zim shook as he passed the great mutt, and he knocked gently on Zita's front door. Nobody answered. Using his spider limbs, Zim climbed over the porch railing and looked in through the first window on the side of the house. There, Zita was flipping through the album, an unmistakable pair of headphones perched on her head and covering her ears.

Zim growled and looked back at Hercules, fast alseep. Not wanting to wake the huge dog that had attacked him many times before, Zim circled the perimeter, looking for another way in. Sadly, the only other doors led to balconies, leaving no reasonable way for Zim to have even made it to the doors. Zim sighed, returned to the front door, and knocked hard, waiting for Hercules to maul him.

Hercules did indeed maul him, angered for being woken from a peaceful slumber, but fortunately for Zim, Hercules soon went back to sleep and furthermore, Zita had taken notice of the noise. She pulled off her headphones and opened the front door.

"Zim?" She gasped, "What happened?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," Zim said, dazed. He shook his head. " _Zita!_ I have come to _apologize!_ "

"Apologize? For what?"

Zim blinked and coughed. "About the, uh, about the meat. I'm a... vege...table...aviary?"

Zita tilted her head. "Excuse me?"

"I'm... uh... uh... vege-- veg..."

"Vegetarian."

"That."

Zita looked at the ground. "You don't eat meat."

"Yes."

"And I made you Valentine's day meat anyway."

"Yes...?"

"I'm really sorry, Zim... I should have noticed..."

"Stop crying, Zita."

Zita looked up at Zim. He kept talking.

"There's no need to cry. I have brought you Valentine's day meat!"

Zim held up an egg. Zita looked at the egg. It was a chicken egg, and hard-boiled.

"Is this it?" Zita said.

Zim nodded. He handed Zita the egg, and she smiled.

"Thank you, Zim. I really appreciate it."

"So, do you forgive me?"

Zita laughs. "There's nothing to forgive. I gave you something that made you sick, and you got sick. It couldn't have been helped."

"Good! So, uh... are you gonna start calling Dib crazy when he calls me an alien again...?"

"I've been slacking, haven't I?"

"Get back to work, soldier!"

Zita smiled, and she couldn't help but laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nobody's going to ask so I'm just gonna say that I 100% named Zita's father after Douglas Quaid from Total Recall. This Doug's never gonna be that badass but God, does he dream.


End file.
